


The Draoi

by typicalfangirli



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cliche stuff happens, Fae Magic, Jack is flustered, Jack is magic, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Mark is a tease, Mark is down on his luck, magical dub-con, things might get steamy, warlock au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-05-17 03:43:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14824614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typicalfangirli/pseuds/typicalfangirli
Summary: Jack is a still young Draoi; one who practices ancient Irish magick. Mark is an unemployed traveller who spent the last of his cash chasing down a fairy tale in the forest of a little backwoods town. When Mark finds his way to the cabin of the Draoi, he asks to help get back on his feet. Jack is happy to help, but a slipped in love potion will change everything for the both of them.





	1. The Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introduction to the Draoi world

The Draoi. The irish warlock. Many said it was a difficult journey to find him, others said it was as easy as wandering around the woods until you came upon his cabin. The only consistency in their stories was that he always greeted them with enthusiasm. It seemed the warlock was lonely, and the reason they shared their stories at all was per his request. He wished more people would visit him, 'just like the old days' he would say. It seemed he had lived for many decades, yet they always spoke of how young he looked. The only tell of his age were the gray hairs that peppered his otherwise thick brown hair. Alby, the oldest man in town spoke often of the draoi. He claimed to have known the warlock during his youth. He told the story to anyone who would listen, how he had gotten lost in the woods at the tender age of 5 and met the Draoi.

_He felt a path open up, almost by magic. It had been hours since he had gotten lost and he was crying already. He collapsed in exhaustion just as he burst into a clearing._

_"Oi! Little buddy..." The irish accent had been the last thing he heard before he closed his eyes._

_\--_

_"You okay there?"_

_He opened his tear-stained eyes to see a young man leaning over him._

_"Who are you?" The young boy asked, wiping his eyes._

_"Well, my name's Seán but you can call my Jack." The man said, smiling and propping his elbows on his knees, resting his chin in his palms._

_Wary, Alby sat up and pulled his legs closer to him to realize he was laying in a cot._

_"Yeah, ye nearly scared the living daylights outta me when ya collapsed in my garden. I brought ya in and patched ya up." Jack held out his hand and waved it lazily, a shimmer of green appearing around his graceful fingers._

_"You're the draoi! The warlock of the woods!" Alby squealed in amazement._

_Jack chuckled. "Yep. I suppose you hear a lot of stories about me?"_

_"My mum tells me you protect the town, but old Gus says you eat children to stay young."_

_Jack reared back his head, bursting into laughter. "That's rich, ain't that a fat load of- ahem. Well, Old Gus ain't got a clue about what he's talking about. Don't worry, little buddy. I won't eat ya."_

_Alby smiled and relaxed, only to be pulled out of the cot._

_"Where're we goin?" He asked, in the process of being hoisted to sit on Jack's waist. He knew this position, his mum held him like this often._

_"Home! We gotta getcha back home to yer mum, don't we?"_

_“But it took me hours just to get here! What if we get lost?” Alby said, squirming at the thought of going back into the dense forest._

_“Don't worry yer head about it. The forestall make us a path.” Jack reassured, already trekking into the woods._

_“How?”_

_“If yer good to nature, nature's good to you. Never forget that, little buddy. What's yer name, by the way?”_

_“Alby.”_

_“Well alright then Alby, wanna help me with some magic?”_

_“Do I ever!”_

_“Well alright then, on 3, shout that you love nature as loud as you can, ready?”_

_“Mhm.”_

_“One.” Jack held out his empty hand and had the spell on the tip of his tongue._

_“Two.” He breathed out the short spell in fluent Gaelic and flicked his hand forward slightly, a shimmer of green floating down, already changed the shape of the forest ahead._

_“Three.”_

_“I LOVE NATURE!”_

_Alby giggled and looked forward, only now catching a glimpse of the path opening up for them. “It worked!” He grinned, looking back over at Jack._

_“‘Course it worked! I had a helper!” Jack ruffled the boy's hair._

“He brought me back to my mum, tipped his grey cap, and off he went. I only saw him once again after that. A stroll in the woods when I was 12. Saw him tending to his garden. He hadn't aged a day since the last time I had saw ‘im.” 

“But you definetely saw him do magic, right?”

“There is no doubt in my mind that he’s the Warlock of the Woods. But I would hold off on going to find him. Them woods are hard to navigate, especially for an outsider. Here, let me get you a map.”

By the time Alby had come back with a map in hand, the young man was gone. He shook his head, hoping his one warning had fallen on keen ears. He had tried many time over the years to find the draoi again, only to get lost. He left to make a cup of tea.

As Mark left the shop, he knew he would heed no such warnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, first story on AO3!


	2. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark takes a long fuckin walk

Mark's journey was cut short at the edge of the woods. He stood, staring down at his sneakers, doubts filling his mind. His shoes were half on the street, and half on the soft dirt, just like his internal emotions. This was the official entrance to the woods, the only problem being that Mark was unsure on whether he was officially ready to go through with this. He had only come to this small town because he had heard the legends and had some time to kill. Being jobless will do that to a person. 

"C'mon Mark, you took a 2 day road trip for this. You can't chicken out now."

He stepped onto the dirt and decided to put his body on autopilot. He thought back on how exactly he got here, walking in the woods of a small town looking for a magician to get him out of a rut. How he had been fired from his job, and after a night of drunk googling, he had gotten the crazy idea to search for a supernatural answer to his problem. How he had packed up a week's worth of cereal, mac n cheese, and clothes into his car, and driven here by himself. He didn't even think he told his mom or friends he was going. The weight of his decision finally collapsed in on him and he sighed heavily, running his hands through his red hair and down his face. His drowning thoughts were interrupted when his toe caught on tree root and he was sent sprawling onto the ground. 

"Hey! You okay there?" Mark looked up to see a teenage girl running towards him.

She quickly grasped his arm and pulled him back up until he was standing. He dusted off his clothes and looked up to meet eyes with the girl. She had bright blue eyes that darkened slightly towards the pupil, and a soft, worrisome expression. Her light brown hair was tied in a ponytail, and it shined when the sun caught hold of it. 

"You alright?" She asked, eyes still traced with concern.

"Yeah, thanks for the assist." He smiled graciously at her.

"I'm Sophia, you must be Mark." She grabbed his suddenly limp hand and shook it. 

"How do you know my name?" His eyes widened and he almost jerked his hand away.

"The Draoi! He said that someone was coming to see him named Mark."

"You saw the Draoi?" A splitting smile broke out on Mark's face.

"Yeah, he's been helping me out. Gave me this." She pulled out a vial of a clear liquid and sloshed it around. Mark stared at the vial and his hope was renewed. If this girl had seen him, and even been given a gift, then surely his efforts were not in vain! "You might want to get going. He said your luck potion should be done in about 2 hours."

Mark realized that this made things all too real. He hadn't even known what to ask for if he had found the Draoi, but it seemed that was taken care of. A luck potion would surely make his life a bit easier. He had put in some applications to some companies, with no response yet from any of them. He almost stumbled as the girl pressed her hand flatly against his back and pushed him onwards, waving as she headed back to civilization. Mark pushed on, much more aware this time. His heart light, he kept going straight, that is, until a squirrel distracted him and he ended up off the path. 

\--

Jack checked his watch, smiling. There wasn't much time left now. The potions were almost done, and he brushed off his hands to go inside. He would water the arugula later, just in time for Mark. Holding hand over the luck brew, his eyes glowed a bright green as he spoke the blessing. 

_"Bealtaine do deacrachtaí a bheith níos lúfhéadfadh do blessings a bheith níos, a ligean ach áthas agat a thagann tríd do dhoras!"_

As he stirred the brews, he couldn't help but swish his hand towards his record player. The pin dropped and Jack slowly began to sway to the sound of trumpets and guitar.

\--

Mark stood up from the fallen tree trunk, sighing and cursing himself for not packing water. Still he preserved, slumping along with his shuffling feet. He hoped all this fuss was worth it, magic or not. He checked his phone, no service, what a surprise. He'd been walking for close to 2 hours, a ridiculous length of time in his mind. He wondered if sleeping on the forest floor was really that bad, but decided against it. That Sophia girl had said his potions would be ready soon, and he didn't want to keep this mystical being waiting. 

\--

Jack smiled and grabbed two empty glass vials. He ladled in the two potions, clearly labelling them. Placing the vials down on his old wooden table, he did a quick check of the cabin. The cabin itself was not very large, but his many possessions cluttered easily. Grabbing a broom, he quickly swept the floor, dust flying up to dance in the streams of sun that filtered through his windows. He opened his closet and threw his dirty clothes in it for later. For the first time, Jack felt...nervous. He never felt nervous. But as he grabbed at the dirty vials and tossed them into the sink, his heart couldn't help but flutter. 

\--

Mark was kneeled on the dead leaves of fall, the muted browns and oranges somehow matching his emotions perfectly. The crunch that accompanied his every shift in weight and footstep matched the sounds he had been hearing for the last 2 hours. His throat was dry and burned with each swallow. His eyelids stuck together with every blink, making it harder to keep them open. His legs ached with each step, and there was nothing more that he wanted than a FUCKING GLASS OF WATER. 

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

\--

Jack chuckled at the scream that echoed throughout the forest. He had been sitting on his small couch but the scream had brought him back to awareness. Standing and cracking his back, he headed over to his record player. He selected one of his favorites and smoothly slid it onto the player. Dropping the needle, the music began to play.

\--

Mark lifted his head and his eyebrow rose an inch. 

"What the fuck."

He simply stood and walked towards the sounds. Why the hell an ancient magician would like Mambo Number 5 baffled him, but at least it gave him a hint of where to go.

\--

Jack poured a cup of water and a mug of coffee. He opened his cabin door and leaned against the doorframe, waiting for the figure to emerge. Taking a sip of the coffee, he gently swayed in time to the song.

\--

Mark finally saw the trees lightening up, more sun streaming through. There was a clearing nearby. He jogged, using his arms to push away the stray branches. 

\--

Jack could hear the branches snapping and smiled, spotting the mop of dyed red hair. 

\--

The sun blinded him as he shoved past the last layer of branches and he stood in the clearing.

\--

Their eyes met.

"Hi."


	3. The Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark and the Draoi chat it up

"Hi."

Jack raised an eyebrow and smiled. 

"Hi? That's it?"

Mark huffed and dragged himself closer, awe being the last thing on his mind. 

“I’m a bit tired after that 2 hour wa- is that a glass of water?”

Jack held out the glass silently, leaning against the doorframe with a coy look. Mark walked forward and took the glass, quickly downing the liquid. As he exhaled heavily, he looked at the Draoi, realization dawning over him. 

“You’re the Draoi.”

Jack nodded, smiling and turning towards his cabin. He beckoned to Mark to follow him, and took a quick sip of his coffee.

“Took ya long enough. And you’re right on time.” Jack set down his mug and grabbed the two vials.

Jack turned, only to be faced with Mark. Leaning against the door. Breathing heavy. Covered in sweat. 

He almost dropped the vials.

Mark looked up to see the Draoi holding two small vials of liquid. He also noticed the Draoi had a slight pink tint to his cheeks. Straightening up, Mark felt strange. As if being analyzed. He shifted uncomfortably and simply stared at the Draoi. It seemed the magical being was waiting for something. Mark awkwardly bowed, as you would to royalty.

“You don't havta-” Jack burst into laughter at the nervous expression on Mark’s face. “You don't gotta bow to me. I ain't no King.”

Mark flushed and stood again, wiping off his shirt. “Sorry, you just...you’re this big magical warlock everyone always talks about and I didn't even think you were real and…”

“Well, I am real. And you don't gotta keep calling me Draoi. My name’s Séan, call me Jack if you like.”

Mark sat down on a cot, taking in everything. “That’s quite a lot of names you got there.”

Jack shrugged. “My ma always called me Jack when I was a boy.”

“How long has it been since then?”

Jack stopped moving about the cabin, and scratched his neck. Furrowing his eyebrows, he struggled to count the years. Mark feared he had asked something crossing his boundary, and quickly shook his head. 

“You don't have to answer if I'm overstepping-”

“No, yer not. I'm just having some trouble remembering. My memories aren't what they used ta be.”

Mark nodded, looking down at his shoes. His plain sneakers rested on the aged wood that creaked when he moved. The floor looked clean, and although the shine of the wood had been gone for many years, it wasn't exactly rotted away. Mark wondered if a Jack had fixed the cabin using the trees outside. There was suddenly a slamming sound close, and Mark snapped his head up to see Jack with his hand slapped flat against the wooden table and a grin on his face.

“It was 1774! That’s when I became a Draoi.” Mark’s eyes widened. 

Jack kept talking as though he hadn't dropped a bomb on the other man. “74 minus 26 equals...equals…shoulda stayed in school. Equals 48. 1748. I was born in 1748.”

Mark’s jaw almost dropped to the floor. He had known the Draoi was ancient, but this young...man, was so filled with energy it hadn't hit him how old the warlock was. It almost scared him. How much had he seen in his years of living? How many disasters? It surprised him how the Draoi could still offer help to people, after how many years had gone by seeing what people could do? 

Jack filled the cup of water again, turning around to see Mark looking shocked. He chuckled, and passed the cup into the man's hands. Leaning back onto the table, Jack simply smiled.

“Not as young as I look huh? I always was the baby of the family.”

Mark closed his mouth quickly and took a sip of the water, nodding with still wide eyes. The idea that this warlock had ever been the youngest of a family was nearly unbelievable. He glanced upward for a moment, looking at the grey hairs that shined in the light of the cabin lights. They seemed to be the only thing that suggested the man was older than what he looked. Jack noticed and reached a hand up to his hair and pulled at the glowing silver hairs gently. 

"Oh yeah, these things started growing in around 1820." 

Mark rose his eyebrows. "You know you're way too casual about all this?"

“It’s been said.” Jack moved smoothly across the room and reached his hand to pat Mark’s hair. 

Mark looked up in surprise, bringing his gaze down after a moment to stare into Jack’s eyes in confusion. Grinning, Jack felt the soft hair on the other man's head, feeling eyes on him. Glancing to meet them, Jack’s smile dropped. The pair of chocolate brown eyes were being hit by the sun that streamed through the windows, illuminated as though by a small fire, as an amber colour shone through the iris. There was a strong thumping in his heart, and he felt a shiver wipe through his whole body. Shaking it off, Jack pinched his two fingers together and sharply pulled out a few hairs. 

“OW! What the hell?” Mark flinched, his hand reaching up like a reflex the rub the sore spot. 

Jack quickly turned away, grabbing a small vial that was shaped like a swirling tornado. Dropping in the hairs, he slid across the room, sorting through some ingredients. A root fell off a shelf, and a jar of thin slivers of a pale beige substance that looked suspiciously like dead skin was dangerously close to falling off the edge. Jack took the root, twisting it harshly until a type of juice dripped out of it. Holding the leaking root over the vial, he let three drops fall into the vial, placing the root back on the shelf. Mark however, was watching this flurry of movement, still in shock of his hairs being pulled out. 

“I’ve decided to be generous. I’m making you a faerie dust.”

Mark shook his head slightly, as though it would snap him back to reality. “A what now?”

Jack pressed a stopper on the vial and shook it heartily, before placing it on a shelf that was in full view of the sun, along with other oddly shaped vials. “A faerie dust. It's often used as a strengthening agent, but sometimes it can be used as an enchantment by itself. I’m making you a strengthening agent for your top-up.”

“My top-up? It that what this thing is?” Mark held out one of the vials he was holding.

“Yes. Potions don’t last forever so I gave you an extra potion for when you leave. When the other potion wears off, just use the top-up. I’m throwing in a strengthening agent so it will last longer.” Jack gently pulled a different vial off the shelf. It was orange coloured, shaped like a teardrop. Inspecting it, he took a pinch of dust and sprinkled it inside. The vial shifted colours and became a pale blue. 

“Why did you need my hair for that?” Mark asked, carefully opening his bag and placing the vials inside.

“When you bond a strengthening agent to a person, it become stronger and will only work with that person. That way if anyone else tries to drink your potion after you’ve put the dust in it, it won't work on them.” 

Mark nodded, as if this situation at all made any sense. “So how long will it take?” 

Jack wiped his hands on a dishcloth and made his way over to a small couch, falling on it. “Oh, that thing needs to absorb the sun for another few hours, and then I have to do a small incantation over it in the moonlight, and then I have to crush a faerie into it.”

“You have to what now?!”

“What did you think a faerie dust is made of? It needs the dust of a faerie to work.”

Mark massaged his hands, looking down and up for a moment. He imagined the thin wings of a flitting faerie being grasped and crushed, dropping into the tornado shaped vial. Frowning, he remembered that this… Being, had lived for over 200 years. It surely had no qualms about killing. Looking up, he saw Jack walking over with something small in his hands. It glinted silver and for a scary moment Mark thought he was going to be stabbed. Jack unclasped his hand to drop a granola bar into Mark’s lap. 

“Thanks.” Mark said, graciously.


	4. The Origin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack tells the story of him first arriving at the cabin

Jack smiled, walking over to where Mark sat after he had eaten the granola bar. “Alright, stand up.”

“What?”

“Stand up.” Jack held out his hand, and hesitantly Mark took it, being pulled up to place pressure on his feet. “You’re heading back to civilization, my friend.”

Mark’s face dropped at the thought of walking another 2 hours. “I’m so tired, it’ll take forever to get back!”

Jack chuckled, leading the other man outside to the edge of the woods. “I know a shortcut.”

Mark was about to open his mouth when Jack held out his hand to the woods. A glittering green air formed around Jack’s hand and he held it out to the forest, his blue eyes flashing a bright green.

_“Seó sliocht.”_

There was the sound of cracking twigs and the sharp noise of splitting bark as the trees themselves moved to reveal a pathway. Mark’s eyes widened as the roots in the ground slid away like snakes, to follow the trees as they moved. Jack dropped his hand and began to walk forward through the path, while Mark stood, still dumbfounded by what had just happened. Looking back, Jack laughed and grabbed Mark’s hand, pulling him along.

Mark shook himself out of his stupor and caught his own feet, snaking his hand away from the warlock. “So do you often walk people home?” He asked, still looking around.

“Almost always. If they can find me alone, I can give them a bit of help getting back.”

“What about that Sophia girl?” Mark wondered if she had gotten back okay.

“Sophia comes to see me at least once a month. By now I just flick my wrist to the forest and she gets back on her own.”

Mark rose his eyebrows in surprise. "Why does she come to see you that often?"

Jack walked a bit slower, a sad look coming over his face. "She says she doesn't like the thought of me being lonely, but she comes every month for her top-up. She found me about a year ago, asked for a depression potion. I fixed her up, and sent her on her way. I didn't expect to see her again. It's hard enough to find me the first time, let alone a second. The fact she kept coming every month was simply a huge surprise to say the least. Now she comes in every little while and we chat for a bit, I give her the next potion, and she heads out."

“Huh.” Mark shoved his hand in his pockets, the mood suddenly darker.

“She’s great, loves to talk. I just like listenin'. She tells me what goes on out there in the world."

Mark lifted a hand to push a stray hair out of his eyes, sneaking a look at Jack. The ancient warlock was staring at the ground as they walked. 

"How come you don't leave the forest?"

Jack looked up. His expression hadn't lifted, in fact, Mark might have said it had gotten sadder. 

"There's the thing no one tells you about being a Draoi. Once you get your powers, you have to take off to the nearest On Eirne and study." Jack held out his hand and a swirl of green aura hovered delicately above his palm, illuminating the slowly darkening forest.

"Study?"

"Yeah, you don't just learn magic randomly. You gotta study. I remember when I first got to the cabin..."

_The young man stumbled through the woods, the screams of the villagers behind him. His body glowed green, and the aura was the only thing that warmed him. His feet dragged against the compacted dirt, cloth shoes becoming dusted with a faint brown. The sun was on the horizon, slowly dropping beneath the shadows of trees._

_"Ma." The man choked out, tears running down his cheeks._

_The green aura around him spiralled outward, like a vine. It snaked through the air, leading him through the thick woods. Glancing upward, he scowled at the shimmering rope before him.  
"I DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS. I DIDN'T WANT THIS." The irish accent sharply sliced through the air. _

_The vine simply wriggled, as though beckoning him further. The young man fell to his knees, holding himself up with his arms. He convulsed in pain, as the moon began to rise. The light slid across the ground as the moon rose higher, sliding across his back like a blade. He struggled to stand, once again following the tendrils of aura. As the white orb reached its peak, the young man pushed the last branch out of the way and saw a small wooden cabin. It was cozy, and surprisingly, the lights in the windows were on. He stumbled to the door, and entered it, only to find it was empty. The one thing that caught his eye was a small dagger the held a piece of paper to the wooden table in the middle of the cabin. He approached, yanking the paper from under the hold of the sharp dagger._

**Boy,**

**I have kept the lights on in hopes it helps you reach this cabin. As my last enchantment, I have left a kettle to brew some tea as soon as you walked through the door. I hope you find my past home sufficient to your needs and treat it well. I know you are most likely tired, and confused. I have laid out some of the most helpful books for you to start your studies with. Many blessings upon you.**

**Samuel**

_The man put down the paper and sharply looked up to the sound of a kettle whistling. Walking over to the cupboard, he searched for a mug, and poured a cup of tea. Taking a sip, his eyes drifted to the bookshelf overflowing with books. There were some already placed on the wooden table, fingerprints in the dust on the covers. He walked over and slowly let his hand rest on the leather-bound book, gently turning the page to the first spell._

"Wow." Mark had been listening intently for the last few minutes, barely paying attention to the path. 

Jack smiling, lifting his arm to stop the stronger man. Mark froze, only the noticing they had reached the edge of the woods. The buildings had lights on in the windows, and there were few people milling around the shops. Mark immediately took a step forward, noticing Jack didn't follow. In fact, Jack didn't even step off the dirt of the forest floor.  


"This is where I drop you." Jack said sadly.


	5. The Fae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack decides to pay a visit to the Fae

"You can't come with me?" Mark asked, the gap between the two seeming small, but feeling large. 

“I can’t leave the forest. Not unless it’s for a spell. I can't move closer to the town, that cabin has been there since the first Draoi practiced magic.”

“What happens if you try?” Mark asked.

Jack sighed and stepped onto the road, no longer in the forest. Immediately, his pale skin began to tinge red and he whimpered in pain as sores opened on his arms. The skin blistered and Jack’s knees buckled, forcing Mark to try and hold him up. Jack shrugged Mark away and stepped back into the forest, the sores closing and his strength returning as he moved back into the forest. 

Mark flinched at the weary sight of Jack. “You could have just told me. You didn't have to do that.”

Jack lazily waved his arm. “It's fine, serves as a reminder..."

Mark stared at Jack with a mix of pity and concern.

Jack immediately threw a smile on his face. “No more sad face! The reason you came to me was to make you happy! Go on, go get some rest.” 

Mark smiled weakly. He turned to leave, but quickly faced Jack again and pulled him into a hug. His arms wrapped around the smaller man's frame and he had his head cheek to cheek with Jack, with a view of the forest where Jack had to return. “Thank you.”

Jack almost screamed. He didn't get many hugs, but that wasn't why. Jack almost screamed because the feeling of Mark’s torso pressed against his chest made his cheeks burn a bright pink. Jack almost screamed because his arms were also wrapped around Mark’s body. Jack almost screamed because he wanted to nuzzle the red-haired man’s neck and run his fingers through his hair and God he smelled good.

But Jack didn't scream. He patted Mark’s back, smiled, and pulled away. 

“No need. I do this because I want to. But you’re welcome nevertheless.” He took a step back into the forest and watched Mark start jogging towards the town. The red-haired man turned while running and waved hastily, leaving Jack to stand on the end of the forest. 

Jack loved what he did. He loved helping people and solving their problems, but the part he hated the most was right now. Watching them run back to civilization, leaving him alone again. He longed to chase after Mark, pull him close. But he was a Draoi, an ancient being made of stardust and magic in Mark’s eyes. All Jack ever saw when he looked in the mirror was himself. Jack turned, to see the branches of the trees bent over him, dropping their leaves as would a willow. He smiled sadly and patted the trunk of the nearby tree. It swung its leaves happily and as soon as Jack passed it, it closed the gap that made up the path. 

“Ma would kill me if she knew what was going through my head.” Jack said to himself.

It was true, the thoughts that ran through Jack’s mind would have had him killed during his mortal life. Impure and of the devil, they would have said. Who knew Jack would become the devil himself. Jack heard the rustling of trees as they moved to hide his path, and he saw the lights of his cabin in the distance, welcoming him home. He knelt quickly and grabbed two red mushrooms, stuffing them in his bag. He neared his cabin, and detoured off to the garden, walking behind through some thick trees. It opened into a clearing, and Jack spotted the large, misshapen tree. The roots were gnarled and lifted up in certain areas, small enough so one couldn’t see beneath it. Jack laid down and slid beneath the roots, dirt staining his shirt. Pushing up the root, he disappeared below the tree and slid on his back down a small slide of sorts. Rolling onto the softer earth, he grunted and stood.

The faerie hideout. It was the home to all the faeries that existed in this half of the United States. Jack smiled, this place was the prettiest place ever, in his mind. He remembered when he had been brought here the first time.

\--

_The boy awoke. He stood from his cot, and rubbed his eyes. Walking over to the enchanted teapot, he poured a mug and took a sip. He wondered if there was anything stronger available to him. Opening up the 7th spell book, he turned to page 47 and yawned, reading over the new spell. He’d been at this for 6 years already, and even though it had gotten easier, this spell was hell-bent on giving him a hard time. Carefully waving his hand in a circular motion, he splayed his fingers outward and closed his eyes._

_“Glaoch mé an seirbhísigh.”_

_Silence met his order. Once more, the boy put his head in his hands and rubbed his face in frustration. Taking another sip of tea, he tried moving past the spell to the next one. He was met with a blank page, and another one, and another one. It seemed that the books simply wouldn't let him advance unless he did the current spell correctly, and it annoyed him to no end. As he stood from his chair, he took another sip from his mug and peered out the window. He wondered how life was out in the world, how his siblings were. It was not as if he didn't wonder this every day, but the memories didn't get easier to relive. Opening the cabin door, he stepped his cloth shoes on the soft earth outside and wandered to check on the garden. Grabbing the small tin watering can, he tipped it onto the budding plants, smiling fondly. He was proud of his garden, and every spring he loved sitting out in the yard and watching his plants bud. Kneeling down, he sprinkled some water over the blooming flowers and sat back on his haunches._

_Suddenly he felt something small whack against his head and he fell onto his side. Groaning, he rubbed his head and looked up, only to see a small female rubbing her head as well. A small...glowing...FLYING female to be exact._

_“What the 'ell!”_

_He jerked back in surprise, pushing his heels into the dirt to get further from the small projectile. The object in question backed up as well, flitting 'her' small wings quickly. She shook her head, and a gentle voice came from her small mouth._

_“You’re the new Draoi, aren’t you? We were wondering when we would meet you!” She flittered near his arm and grabbing a hold of his hand with her own._

_“What are ye talkin’ about?” The young man stumbled forward with the impressive force of the small faerie._

_The creature was silent, only pulling the Draoi towards her home. Entering the clearing, he sighed._

_“I’ve been here before, there ain’t nothing here.”_

_The faerie simply smirked at the Draoi and flew up to the opening of a rotted trunk, disappearing underneath the dirt. The young man bent down to peer in, only seeing darkness, before the faerie popped out from below and yanked at his short hair, pulling him off balance to slide, headfirst down the hole._

\--

Jack parted the glowing flower sheath and ducked his head to the small utopia. There were small mushrooms growing off the walls and small mouse holes that meant to serve as the faerie homes. 

“Sean!” A small faerie nearly flew into his face, only stopping inches from the tip of his nose. 

“Reanna, how are you?” He asked, smiling fondly.

Holding out his pinky finger, the younger faerie flittered over to sit on it. Smiling, she swung her legs and looked up at Jack.

“Draoi, how come you don't visit anymore?” She asked.

“Oh, I’m just a bit busy lately.” Jack poked Reanna’s head gently, leaving the young faerie to giggle. “Do you know where your mother is? I have to talk with her.”

“She’s dealing with Adair, he did something bad.” Reanna suddenly dropped her gaze, and her legs stopped swinging.

Jack’s smile dropped. “What did Adair do that was so bad?” He lifted her chin gently, to meet eyes.

“They found him trying to kill you.”


	6. The Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack asks for a rare ingredient

“Adair Uchei, You have been found guilty of Conspiracy to Murder. You are sentenced to imprisonment until your days end.”

Jack kneeled in the small doorway, bent awkwardly at the hip. He’d dropped Reanna off at the palace and moved carefully through the caverns to the Court. It had been hard to believe but he saw with his own eyes as Adair was on his knees in front of Rowan, the Queen. He watched as Adair turned to leave, being dragged to his punishment. The faerie turned his head slightly and caught sight of the Draoi, a sly grin spreading across his face. Leaning towards Jack, the flittering creature spat on the ground in front of him. 

"The day you die is the day I rejoice, bréagach." 

Jack widened his eyes, shifting forward slowly as Adair was dragged away.

“Rowan, I heard about Adair. What happened?”

The elder faerie rose from her throne and flittered over to Jack, her weary face brightening at the sight of her old friend. Jack cupped his hand, and Rowan sank down, lounging comfortably in his palm. 

“Adair was found in your home, trying to hide a Monkshood underneath your cot.” She said sadly. 

Jack’s eyebrow rose, Monkshood was well known for asphyxiation, often referred to as ‘The Queen of Poisons.’ 

“I fear he would have succeeded in his plan for your demise had Casey not been watching him closely. Apparently Adair had been acting strange recently, strange enough to warrant the watchful gaze of Casey.” Rowan grew serious again, her face dropping with the weight of her responsibilities. 

“Where is Casey? I should thank him.” Jack looked up, searching for the familiar yellow eyes.

“Casey was injured in an altercation with Adair. He is resting in the infirmary, and I apologize, but the infirmary is too small for you.” 

Jack nodded, understanding. “I trust that I will be informed when Casey is well again?”

“Of course.” Rowan patted his finger. “Now onto other matters, why is it that you have graced us with your presence? I doubt you knew of your almost death.” She smiled.

Jack walked back into the main area, an open cavern with glittering lights, and enough space for him to fit. 

“I came because I needed some faerie dust.” He asked sheepishly.

Rowan’s eyes widened. Faerie dust was very difficult to come by, as it required the natural death of a faerie. The faerie’s refused to kill another for any reason. “I will have to check if any recent deaths have occurred, and even then, you know they don't always produce dust.” 

Jack knew, it was why he rarely made potions requiring the dust. He had some left at his cabin, but there wasn't enough for the potion he had to make. 

Rowan sighed. “If I may ask, what is the dust for?” 

Jack sighed. “I have told the client that It was for a strengthening agent, but…”

Rowan rose an eyebrow. “Sean, I need to know what it is actually for if I am to help.” 

“I want to make a love potion.” Jack hung his head in shame. 

The queen looked shocked for a moment, her aged face twisted into confusion. A love potion was no reason for this much secrecy, let alone for Sean to feel anxious to ask. It took her little more than a few seconds to realize what Jack truly wanted. She laughed. 

“You are not the first Draoi to fall for a pretty lass. But it’s rare for one to stoop to using a love potion, why not just tell the girl? You’re not one to get nervous, Sean.”

Jack lowered his gaze from his friend. “That’s the thing, Rowan. I’ve never met someone like Mark. He makes my cheeks turn bright and my stomach got a fluttery inside.” He looked up to see Rowan’s reaction.

The faerie barely batted an eye. “Sean, I know the human world may seem a bit slow on their acceptance, but Faeries have no use for hatred in the eyes of love. Do not fear that I have a changed perspective of you. I will ask Caite if she has any newly dead for you, and get back to you.” 

Jack let out a sigh of relief and smiled, gently patting Rowan’s small head with his index finger. She was too small for a hug, and the two were close enough for him to be this informal. “Thank you, Rowan.” 

The elder Faerie simply waved her hand dismissively. “I am simply doing my job, serving the Draoi.”

Jack disliked that fact, he preferred to think of the faeries as friends who help him, rather than duty bound to assist. Gently letting go of Rowan, the faerie fluttered her wings and bowed slightly towards Jack. He returned the act with a head nod, smiling. Rowan turned and landed gracefully on the ground, massaging her wings. 

“I trust you can show yourself out.” She said.

Jack turned away from his friend and simply held out his palm in front of him.

_“Snámhphointe.”_

His feet lifted from the ground and he began to float upwards towards the base of the tree. As long as he held his hand like this, he would continue to stay aloft. He heard quiet mutterings all around him and watched the small mouse holes, as faeries fluttered out to watch him. He spotted a small female faerie, couldn’t be much older than 5 in human time. Her eyes were wide in awe as he moved upwards. He waved and gave her a smile, watching as the little one hid her face in her mother’s leg. Jack saw the crack where the roots lifted and reached up an arm to grasp at the hardened dirt. The spell pushed him up another few inches before Jack used his spell hand to grab hold of the ground and gravity worked on him once again. Over the years, Jack’s arms had gotten stronger and he lifted himself up with ease. Grunting, he turned over onto his back and laid there for a moment, staring up at the sky. 

“Time to go back to work.” He said to himself, and pulled himself up.


	7. The Dust and Stew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack completes the potion, while Mark spends some time with a local

Mark headed back to his car and grabbed his box of Honey Nut Cheerios to munch on as he contemplated what had happened. He had found the Draoi, and had even been given a gift, no, two gifts! With another one in the works! Which reminded him of the potion he had taken a sip of while on the way from the forest. The American leaned back in his seat, wondering how the warlock could be so kind. He wondered if it had anything to do with how the Draoi had looked at him when he first showed up. Leaning against the doorway in exhaustion, the man had looked surprised, cheeks even brightening a tad. Mark shook the thought away, perhaps the Draoi had been surprised at the state of Mark himself, after all, a 2 hour walk in the woods doesn't mean you look fantastic. 

“Mister… Hey mister!” A sharp knock rapped against his window, startling Mark out of his thoughts. 

Sitting up, Mark looked out to see an older woman staring at him and his boxes of supplies. He rolled down the window a bit.

“Hello, can I help you?” He asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Your car is parked in my parking lot. I don't take kindly to the homeless thinking they can stay here all night without paying.” She gestured to the building behind her. 

Mark peered around her shoulder to see a small, homey looking Bed and Breakfast. 

“You either get a room, or you get out.” She said.

Mark opened his wallet and gulped. He didn't have much left in the ways of money. 

“How much is a room for the night?” He asked weakly.

The woman leaned forward to take a peek into his wallet and her eyes softened. “You seem like a strong young man. If you give me $5 and help me out, I’ll let you stay.” Her gaze wandered to his stockpile of dried food and the garbage bag of his clothes.

Mark smiled gratefully and opened the door, taking out his $5 to hand to her. She took it and gripped his shoulder, leading him inside. 

“You can stay in one of the smaller rooms, and you can leave your car in the parking lot. But first, I need some help with this lightswitch that just won’t turn on. Let me show you.”

\--

Jack watched as the sun sank lower and lower beneath the treeline, sighing. He sat by the small wooden chute that was his transport system. Having prepared the rest of the potion, he began to bite at his fingernails in wait. The past hour had been a rollercoaster of emotion, one filled with his own self doubts at his idea. The idea that he would stoop so low as to use a love potion sickened him but at the same time he imagined he would regret the rest of his existence if he didn’t say something to Mark. At least a half hour had been spent on this dilemma, including 8 minutes all together of hair pulling. Jack’s leg began to jitter, as it did when he was nervous, until he heard that clanking noise that meant the arrival of his answer. He opened the small hatch and pulled out a glass vial containing an aged fairie with it’s wings wrapped tightly around its body. Carefully, Jack popped open the lid and slid the corpse into the palm of his hand. 

_“Dea beidh chugat.”_ The ancient tongue rolled off easily, and a faint tinkling noise echoed, as Jack bowed his head in respect. 

Reaching for the potion, Jack uncapped it and held the faerie over it, the limp body frail in his hand. His fingers slowly curled in and pressed against the faerie, as Jack turned his fist to have his fingers parallel to the ground. Crushing it with force, Jack felt the body get smaller until all he felt was grains of dust. Opening his fist, a golden dust resting in his palm, and Jack sighed, taking 5 pinches of it to drop into the potion. A singular pinch was placed back in the vial the corpse had arrived in, and sent back for the family to have, as was customary. Pouring the rest in his almost empty bag of faerie dust, Jack turned back to the potion. Plucking two of his own hairs, Jack dropped them into the potion and held his hand over it. 

_“Croí an ghrá.”_

The potion sparkled and turned scarlet, fading in colour slightly as Jack took it outside. Holding it up to the bright moon that was shining down on him, The potion bubbled and glowed with a white aura. 

_“O Bandia bless tú dom.”_

The wind began to howl around Jack and he kneeled, almost as an offering to the sky. Leaves broke off from nearby trees and danced in the wind, fluttering around the potion vial. Eyes clenched closed, The Draoi suddenly gasped and the lids of his eyes shot open, the whites replaced with a neon glowing green. 

_“Tá do arna iarraidh a freagraíodh agus deonaíodh.”_

A ghostly voice, neither male nor female echoed in the wind that swirled past Jack’s ears. Smiling, the Draoi waited with his head bowed until the sky calmed, and lifted his gaze to see the potion had dried to a fine powder. Thanking the night sky once more, Jack turned back to his cabin and went inside, ready to crash for the night.

\--

Mark screwed the last screw into the wall and smiled at his handiwork. Flicking the switch up and down, he grinned even wider when the light turned on and off. 

“You did a mighty fine job on that switch.” He turned to see Ms. Afton standing in the doorway. 

Brushing the drywall dust off his hands, Mark sighed contentedly, leaning against the wall. He was shaken from his relaxation by the sharp voice of the older woman. 

“You’re not done yet boy.” She said, turning towards the kitchen and pointing a slightly wrinkled finger. “You’ve gotta help with the dinner.” 

Stretching, Mark took a deep breath and began to walk in the direction Ms. Afton indicated. “What’s on the menu?” 

“Octopus stew. Made the way my Avo did it.” Rubbing her hands in anticipation, Ms. Afton moved faster than Mark though possible for a woman he age, sifting through the cupboards grabbing ingredients. 

“Octopus stew? I take it you’re from an island.” Mark said, waiting for instruction.

“The Açores of Portugal.” Ms. Afton stated with an accent so heavy it startled Mark.

She dropped a sack of potatoes into Mark’s waiting arms and turned to the cupboard, grabbing a cutting board. Placing it on the counter, she waved to it. “Clean them, peel them, then cut them into quarters.” 

Mark nodded dutifully and opened the sack, grabbing about 6 potatoes. Nodding, Ms. Afton began to work on the broth. 

“So were you born on the islands, or here?” Mark asked, scrubbing the dirt off the potatoes. 

“Sadly, I was born here, but my Avo taught me much about São Miguel. Our island. I’ve been there a few times, it is so beautiful. I saw our home, right on the beach.”

Mark continued on with listening to the woman’s story. He smiled when she talked about her adventures with the small volcanic island off of the coast and laughed when she talked about the parties that ended in the craziest of ways, with almost the entire town in a small gathering centre. She beckoned him over a few times to taste the broth, to which he said it really didn't have a taste. She smiled and went into the fridge, pulling out a small glass jar of red paste. 

“Pimenta.” She took out a spoon and took a small amount on the tip, offering it to Mark. 

Hesitantly, Mark tried the paste, coughed at the spice. Laughing, Ms. Afton put 3 tablespoons into the broth. Pouring Mark a glass of milk, she stirred the paste into the broth. 

Coughing, Mark slammed his fist against his chest. Chuckling, he turned back to the potatoes. 

“Afton doesn’t really sound like a portuguese name.” He commented.

“My mother’s side.” 

“Ah.”

They continued in pleasant silence.


	8. The Shimmer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is late, Mark arrives to find the potion.

Jack awoke the next morning feeling excited. His potion was done, and Mark would be coming back for it soon. The feeling of guilt was still ever present in his mind and he didn’t know whether to shake it away or not. He grabbed the tornado shaped bottle and shook it, the red substance swirling around like a sandstorm. Giggling, Jack spun around gracefully with the vial held tight against his chest, and placed it back down on the table. Sighing, he grabbed his knapsack and left the cabin, letting the aged wood slip past his fingers to close behind him. It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining and streaming through the trees, the bright green leaves taking on an almost glowing appearance. He had enough time to stock up on ingredients before Mark came, so he strolled through the woods. The soft dirt compressed beneath his shoes, and the breeze gently wafted past him. Running his hand through his hair, Jack sighed peacefully, having a moment to think clearly. He knew that coaxing someone like this using a potion was not… the best way to go about it. But every time he thought about Mark’s face...his eyes… Jack had to steady himself for a moment. His heart fluttered simply imagining the man. He hated this. Jack hated how he couldn't leave the forest, how he couldn't talk to people unless they came looking for him. Loneliness sucked. He had the faeries, but it wasn’t the same. He had Sophia, but it wasn't the same. He wanted love. He wanted to be held and to hold someone else and have them say that it's alright. Jack sighed again, more exasperated this time. The leaves of the overhanging trees ruffled in the wind and Jack looked up at the sky. 

“Why me?” He moaned.

\--

Mark awoke in his little cot that Ms. Afton had set up for him. Grumbling at the light pouring in the window, he rolled over onto his stomach, pulling his arm up to shield his eyes from any brightness coming to assault him into alertness. 

“Up and at ‘em!” He heard the overly cheery voice call to him from the doorway. 

Mark moaned pitifully in response. 

“Oh _coitadinha!_ ” Ms. Afton mocked. 

Mark stared at her for a moment, trying to figure out if it was a swear word or not. “What did you just call me?”

“Poor little thing.” Ms. Afton laughed and flicked the light switch a few times before turning around and walking away. “Time to help make breakfast.” 

Mark pulled himself out of bed and made it as nicely as he could, pulling on his pants and ruffling through his hair in an effort to make it look neater than ‘I just woke up’. He joined Ms. Afton in the kitchen and she pointed him towards the sausage package without looking. He grabbed a knife and cut open the package, then placed it in a pan filled with water, turning on the stove. As the sausages started cooking, Ms. Afton grabbed 6 eggs and started making little omelettes mixed with shredded pieces of ham and onion. Mark took a ladle and a bowl of pancake batter and set to work making small perfectly round pancakes. Breakfast passed like clockwork and before long there was a satisfying spread before them. The tourists that stayed upstairs soon came downstairs and greeted Ms. Afton and Mark, thanked them for the accommodations, then everyone sat to eat together. The conversation was pleasant and Mark was laughing and joking along with the others soon enough. 

\-- 

“Ah FOCK THIS.” Jack yelled, falling backwards onto his butt. 

The root he had been trying to pull from the ground was stubborn and would not loosen from the ground, no matter how hard the warlock yanked. Grumbling, Jack whistled for help, something he loathed to do, but was necessary. Not long after his high pitched whistle pierced the quiet forest, a small group of fluttering faeries appeared beside him. 

“You call for aid, Draoi?” Said the leader of the group, a male fae dressed in the leaf army uniform.

The faeries were kneeling, heads down in revere. Jack hated that custom. It always bothered him, how he was treated like a god or king. “Yes, this root I need for an ingredient is stubborn and won’t loosen.”

“Very well, we shall assist.” The leader, Jack now remembered as Carney, responded. 

The faeries flew down to the root and formed a circle around it. The breathed a small amount of golden dust into their palms and thrust their hands towards the sprung leaves, quickly moving their arms in a flowing, dancing movement, The dust swirled around the root and slowly, it began to lift. The faeries brought their hands up slowly and Jack seized the opportunity to grasp the root firmly and pull it from the ground. It came up easily and in a moment, Jack was holding the root. He pulled out his cloth bag and shoved the root inside, glancing back at the faeries. 

“Thank you for the assist.” Jack said, smiling.

“No worries, Draoi. We are glad to offer ourselves.” Carney bowed. 

The faeries left, fluttering off back to the tree. Jack stood, looking up at the sky and noticed the sun getting closer to midday. He had a bit more time. He glanced around, noticing some flower buds and made his way over to the patch. 

\--

Mark finished the last of the dishes and checked the clock, noticing it was almost noon. He had to go meet Jack again soon, but the trek through the woods would take some time, so Mark excused himself, and left. Stopping by his car, he grabbed a water bottle. It would definitely be needed. Taking a step on the soft earth of the forest, Mark went onwards. It wasn't long until he didn't know where he was relative to the entrance. Sighing disappointedly, Mark took a swig of his water and gently leaned against a tree. Suddenly, there was a sharp pricking feeling that stabbed Mark’s hand, and he jerked it away from the tree. The familiar rustling and crackling noise filled the air as the trees shifted, the roots sticking out of the ground slipping beneath the dirt. Moments passed until Mark was standing in front of a winding, but clear path forged by the trees. Mouth agape, Mark walked forward. A tree branch moved in the wind, almost unnaturally towards Mark, as though in greeting.

Mark walked forward through the trees, still in shock and awe. It was incredible. As he walked, he noticed how short of a walk it actually was, when you knew where you were going. It was maybe 15 minutes until Mark caught a glimpse of the wood cabin. He quickened his pace until he came upon the firmer dirt, hard from years of being walked on. He knocked on the door only to notice it creak open, unanswered. 

“Jack?” He called out, only for no response. “He must be out.”

Mark decided to wait inside for Jack to come back, and he stepped inside the cabin. Glancing around, he wandered over to the shelf he noticed the day before, looking at the different vials and ingredients. He caught sight of a red tornado bottle sitting on the wooden table, the only potion-looking thing on it. There was a post-it note beneath the bottle, with ‘Mark’s’ written on it. 

“Must be mine.” Mark picked up the bottle and shook it around, watching the glittery powder swirl around. 

Curiosity got the better of him and he opened the cork stopper on the potion, taking a sniff of the powder. Some went up his nose and Mark punched his chest, coughing. The powder was interesting, almost shifting colours in the light. Mark stuck his pinky inside and pulled it back out, some of the powder attached to his finger. 

Mark put his finger in his mouth, letting the grainy powder hit his tongue. 

\--

Jack looked up at the sky, noticing the sun much higher than he had thought it to be, and bit his lip. He put the flower bud in his bag and turned towards the direction of his cabin, quickly walking back. 

“Hope I’m not late.” Jack grumbled to himself. 

As he approached the cabin, he noticed the door open. Sighing, Jack walked across the threshold and put his bag down, seeing Mark by the table, back towards him. Jack stole a glance at Mark’s back muscles, and his breath hitched for a second. 

“Sorry Mark, lost track of time.” Jack said.

Mark turned around, and Jack was taken aback. Mark had used his hand the push his hair up off his forehead, and his face looked slightly flushed. “You okay there?” Jack asked.

As soon as he asked that question, Jack saw two things that worried him. 

There was an uncorked potion sitting on the table.  
Mark’s pupils were larger than normal.

“Jack, I am completely fine...now that you’re here and I get to see those gorgeous eyes.”


	9. The Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack deals with the aftermath of his decision.

Regret. Jack hated that the first thing he felt was regret. He hated that he felt clammy and his blood felt cold. Jack watched as Mark smiled slyly at him, leaning back against the table with an straightened back, a strip of skin showing as his shirt lifted with the motion. His eyes darted to the hint of a happy trail and felt his cheeks start to burn. Mark took notice and stretched further, an eyebrow raised. Jack felt his heart start to pound heavily in his chest as the other man pushed off from the edge of the table and floated over to him with soft footfalls. 

“You know Jack, I can’t imagine being here all alone, it must have been hard.” Mark commented, a small lilt to his voice.

Mark pressed Jack against the wall, practically purring. Jack pressed his palms flat against the wooden walls of his cabin. How long was Mark going to be this...assertive? Of course, that depended on the potency of the potion. 

“Uh...Mark? How much of the powder did you try?” Jack asked, uncertain.

“Just a taste or two. It was good.”

Given that Mark had tasted a pure, undiluted powdered version of the enchantment, it would keep him this way for quite a bit of time, probably a few weeks, and his passion wouldn’t fade for a few days. 

“Well uh...Mark, I really should explai-” A sharp inhale. 

Mark had snaked his arm around Jack’s waist, pulling him closer. Jack’s stomach shakily pressed against Mark’s, Jack struggling to both pull away but lean forward at the same time. 

“What’d you do huh?” Mark murmured. “You put a witchy spell on me huh?”

Jack froze. 

“It felt so good, all these wonderful feelings just rushing forth. I’m glad you did it.”

“You-you are?”

Mark leaned down and brushed by Jack’s cheek with his facial hair to whisper in his ear. “It felt like the world was bursting into colour.”

Jack felt Mark lean down and press his lips against his neck.

Mark was suddenly tossed backwards, landing on his butt. Jack was heaving, and there was a faint green glow around his chest. Tendrils smoked off of both men’s shirts, but there were no marks or visible burns on either fabric.

“Oh _Dia_!” Jack yelped, rushing forward. “Mark I’m so sorry, you caught me off guard!”

Mark chuckled and got up, dusting off his clothes. “Don’t worry, I was a bit forward wasn’t I?”

Jack stammered. “N-no, I mean yes! Wait sorry I mean...I was just not expecting you to...be so close.” 

Mark nodded, barely deterred from his fall. “But you wanted...part of it right? I saw you, you wanted to lean forward.”

Jack dropped his gaze. “I mean…maybe I did, but- ”

“But nothing, you knew what you wanted but you hesitated right?”

“You’re not, you aren’t in your right mind...”

“But it all feels so right, doesn’t it?” Mark slid forward to cup Jack’s waist, adoration in his voice.

Jack stammered, he couldn’t hold on with Mark like this, practically on top of him. The two were plastered against the aged wooden wall, Mark’s body warmth seeping through Jack’s clothes. The two men were melting together into a single being, the desperation that escaped from Mark’s body with each breath; practically a magical force on its own. Jack’s mind was clouded as he felt the energy that radiated from the taller man soak into his own body. Mark was sliding his right hand up to cup Jack’s chin, gently pulling their faces together. Jack almost let it happen.

Almost.

“I can’t!” Jack dropped in a fashion similar to a ragdoll, sliding under Mark’s arm to wriggle out of his position. 

When Jack straightened back up halfway across the room, he was heaving. It took everything to slip away from that. Mark, on the other hand, slowly turned to look at Jack with a broken-hearted expression. 

“Mark I just...I can’t do this with you...like this.”

Mark looked over Jack for a few moments, but nodded. “I get it. I understand. It was...I was too much.” 

They stood, Jack looking like he’d dodged a bullet, and Mark watching Jack with a dejected look. Jack moved towards his counter, haltingly putting a pot of water on the heat. The silence permeated the air, heavy and overbearing in the cool light air of the cabin. Creaks shifted behind Jack as Mark moved towards the bed, the creaks increasing and then dying out. Jack turned around and after grabbing two tea bags, to see Mark sitting, ankles crossed on the bed. 

Jack shuddered out a breath. “How do you like your tea?”

“Two sugars.” Mark’s voice sounded empty, hollow.

“I’m an idiot...this is what I wanted, and I can’t even stand to have it.” Jack muttered to himself. “Talk about ‘be careful what you wish for.’” Bitterness flooded those words. 

The kettle began to scream, a flurry of steam escaping from the spout. Jack turned off the heat and dropped the tea bags into two mugs, before pouring the near-boiling water in. 

As the water infused, Jack ran his hands through his hair, his thoughts running wild around his thin-stretched mind. He couldn’t feign ignorance to his actions, he had done what he did out of his own selfishness and desire. He had to take care of Mark during this, all while having to fend off the incredibly likely attempts at romance on Mark’s end. 

Mark on the other hand felt an ache burning through his chest, an emotional blow he hadn’t ever felt to this intensity. The love that bloomed in him when he let his gaze peruse over Jack’s frame was more than he had ever felt before, but just as well, the shattering of his heart was almost too much to bear. 

The silence burned through the wood counter that Jack was leaning against. He pushed off and moved towards his record player, desperate for some anything to cut through the quiet. He pulled out a record, one of his favorites. Placing the vinyl on the player and tuning the needle, a familiar static began to emit from the player. An instantly recognizable strumming began to sound throughout the small cabin. Trumpets began blaring and finally the vocals burst through the air.

“Do you remember? The 21st night of September?”

Even with his wallowing, Mark buried his head in his hands to stifle the laugh. “Really?”

Jack swallowed the tenseness and allowed his voice to carry with a lightheartedness that was sorely needed. “Whaddaya mean ‘Really?’, it’s Earth, Wind and Fire! A classic!”

The trees shook as the blaring music emanated from the tiny cabin in the woods.


End file.
